Follow the Yellow Brick Road
by Skarla
Summary: Birthday fic for Bracket.  Some Toshiro lol, followed by some Ichigo and Renji lemon-scented smut.  Various Wizard of Oz references.  Warnings: Yachiru madness and IchiRen, slight perversion of a classic movie.  Please read and review!


Follow the Yellow Brick Road

For my Bracket, on her Birthday.

Part 1:

Toshiro peered cautiously around the edge of the large doors leading out of the meeting hall, ignoring the curious glance of Yamamoto's Vice-Captain behind him. He had lingered talking to Ichimaru, despite his hatred of the man, about what to get Matsumoto for her birthday. It had been a desperate attempt to avoid coming into close contact with the large bag of sweets Ukitake had surreptitiously shown him when his gaze had happened to wander that way during the meeting. Toshiro smiled as he realised that it appeared that the torturous conversation had been worth it; the hallway was empty.

Stifling his sigh of relief – revealing his feelings in such a fashion was childish, and the Gotei 13 had made enough erroneous assumptions about Toshiro already – he stepped out into the corridor. A hell butterfly flapped past his shoulder, heading swiftly in the opposite direction. His attention on it's determined flight, he failed to see the pale hand reaching around the corner ahead until it was too late and he had been grasped firmly on the shoulder. For a sick old man, Ukitake was remarkably strong. His fingers dug in as he beamed in Toshiro's face.

"There you are, Shiro-chan!" he sang out. "I was waiting for you!"

Behind him, Toshiro saw a flash of pink, as Kyouraku lifted a bottle of sake to his lips. He managed to keep the sneer of disgust off of his face. It wasn't even lunch time yet! Really, Matsumoto should transfer to the 8th, and he could have Ise-fukutaichou. From her reputation, she worked hard and did not let her personal life interfere with her job. He could do with a Vice-Captain like that...

His attention was pulled away from possible personnel changes between divisions by a sickly sweet smell. Ukitake was waving the bag of candy in his face, forcing him to grab it to remove the offending smell from his nose. "I found a new shop in Rukongai yesterday," Ukitake explained. "And I thought of you immediately. I have a bag for Yachiru-chan too, but I wasn't able to give it to her. Would you deliver it for me, please?"

A steely glint in Ukitake's eye clued Toshiro in to the fact that the older Captain was not going to take no for an answer, and he would somehow know if Toshiro did not go. As it happened, he wasn't hugely reluctant... he could give Yachiru both bags and then leave the 11th to deal with the resulting sugar rush.

"That sounds like a good idea, Ukitake-taichou. I'll go over there now."

Ukitake beamed, and placed a second bag of overly-sweet confectionery on top of the first. "I knew I could count on you, Shiro-chan!" Whatever else he was about to say was cut off, as Kyouraku grabbed him by the elbow and began to drag him off down the corridor, muttering something about being late for a game and white haired idiots.

Toshiro thought that the real idiot here was the one who hung out with the white-haired, sweet-obsessed maniac, but he kept his thoughts to himself. The only way to convey them at that point was to either run after the retreating Captains or to shout; both courses of action far too childish to be carried out. Instead, he decided to ignore the comments, and turned to walk slowly in the direction of the 10th squad barracks.

He was assaulted as soon as he entered, somehow swept up in a battle between three of the members of the division, who didn't seem to even notice that they had nearly sliced his arm off as they carried on striking and cursing at each other. That was the last straw for his temper, already stretched from having to carry two bags of sweets halfway across Seireitei. He froze the two morons as they leapt towards each other with the clear intent of landing 'killing blows'. Two lumps of ice hit the courtyard and, unfortunately, didn't shatter. He didn't think that Zaraki would have thanked him for leaving two of his men scattered in icy pieces across the courtyard.

Scowling, Toshiro strode into the main building, straight into another fight. At least this time, the zanpakuto of the parties concerned were still sheathed. The Vice-Captain of the 7th sat on the sidelines, surrounded by several bottles of sake, as he watched in what Toshiro assumed was interest. It was hard to tell, with those sunglasses in the way. Ikkaku and Yumichika were bouncing around in the middle of the entrance hall. Ikkaku's head wasn't shining as much as usual, and as he slowed down to spin into a feint, Toshiro was able to see why. The reason for the bottle of cleaning alcohol and cotton pads in Yumichika's hands became immediately apparent. Someone, and he was willing to bet that it had been a short, overly-cheery individual with pink hair, had been doodling on Ikkaku's head.

"It'll only take five minutes!" Yumichika pouted in exasperation. "And it needs to come off, Ikkaku. You cannot go walking around with that unlovely mess scrawled over your skull."

"I'm not letting you near me with that stuff!" Ikkaku retorted. Judging by Iba's sigh, this argument had been going on for a while. Balancing his bags of candy, Toshiro coughed to attract his attention. Ikkaku and Yumichika also froze as they took in his presence.

"Ah, Hitsugaya-taichou," Yumichika said politely. "What can we do for you?"

"I'm looking for the Vice-Captain," Hitsugaya explained. "I have a delivery from Ukitake-taichou."

"Ah. I believe she is in the training yard, just through there." Yumichika smiled and pointed to a set of doors to Toshiro's left with a cotton pad.

"She is training?" Hitsugaya asked, finding it rather hard to believe.

"No," Ikkaku said, frowning. "That yard has a sandy floor. She likes to play in it."

"Ah, I see. Thank you. Please return to doing... whatever it was you were doing." Iba chuckled, and toasted him with his sake bottle.

"They make pretty good entertainment," he said conspiratorially, as Yumichika attempted to corner Ikkaku, who ran up the wall and did a backflip over the 5th seat's head before retreating back to the center of the room.

Toshiro nodded at Iba, and pushed open the sliding door to the training yard.

It was empty.

A large area in the middle had been dug at, moulded and sculpted, the sand dark with large amounts of water. Toshiro wondered for a moment if Yachiru's mysterious Zanpakuto was a water type, or if she had ordered members of her squad to wet the sand for her. Either way, she was no longer there. Something glinted on the floor further along the corridor, and he walked over to investigate it. Someone had tracked sand over the floor, leaving a clear trail behind them. Assuming that it was Yachiru, Toshiro followed the trail.

The sand led him through a maze of corridors and rooms, several with damaged walls or scratched floors. In the second he found a man staring in dismay at a large scribble in the center of the floor, a bucket of soapy water beside him and a brush in one hand. From the shiny patch on the floor, he had already tried to wash away the markings, with little success.

"I have no idea where she gets them from..." he muttered, oblivious to Toshiro's presence. The young Captain slipped past him, following the yellow trail onwards.

In the next corridor, he paused as he heard a woman speaking. There were few women in the 11th, and those that were part of the squad did not have the soft tone of voice that this woman did. In fact, the voice was rather familiar, but he couldn't place it. Toshiro stepped up to the door to the room, and slid it gently open. A few inches, and he had more than enough space to see into the room. He took one look and fell back, blushing, and nearly tripped off the edge of the floor into the unkept tranquility garden behind him.

The woman had been Unohana, and she was currently in a state of dishevelment as she stitched a wound in Zaraki's shoulder, her haori and uniform on the floor. Instead she was dressed in a loose kimono. A very loose kimono. While Zaraki's chest was a familiar sight, he usually managed to keep his hakama intact during a battle, and Toshiro had not anticipated seeing his... legs at any point in his career. He wondered for a moment exactly what Unohana was doing treating Zaraki in his rooms rather than in the 4th division's infirmary, but quickly decided that it was none of his business. His cheeks burned as he carefully slid the door closed, and continued to follow the trail of sand. If he was lucky, Yachiru would be somewhere at the end of it, and he could get rid of the detested sweets.

As it turned out, he didn't have to wait much longer. He rounded the next corner, and something small and hard crashed into his side, and he went flying into a large ornamental rock. Yachiru peered into his face.

"Hello!" she chirped.

Toshiro grunted, and gestured at the bags several feet away. The ties had come loose, and brightly coloured candy had spilt onto the sand.

"Oooh, sweeties!"

Yachiru's attention was immediately diverted, and Toshiro took advantage of her distraction to escape before she could ask him to play with her.

He made his way quickly back to his own office, where Matsumoto was conspicuous by her absence, and settled into his chair.

"Next time," he announced to Hyourinmaru, "I'll send her _her_ to deal with it. Maniacs, the lot of them."

Part 2:

Meanwhile... in the Real World:

Renji lay on his stomach, entranced by the flickering lights on the screen. "This is so cool!" he said for the seventh time. "We didn't have anything like this when I was alive. This takes all the effort out of reading!"

Ichigo smirked as he lounged on the couch in a manner that would have had Yuzu pouting at him, had she been around to see it. Luckily for Ichigo's conscience, the rest of his family were away for the day, on some sort of school trip. Isshin had gone too; the school nurse was sick and he had jumped at the chance to chaperone his 'darlings' around the sea-life center, and tend to any jellyfish stings that they might accidentally pick up. Ichigo had already visited the sea-life center, and he was pretty sure that the only way to get stung was to fall into the tank, but that didn't stop school regulations, and anyway, he shouldn't be complaining as it meant that he had the house to himself.

Renji had been whining about staying at Urahara's, and as Rukia was spending the weekend attempting to teach Inoue how to cook, Ichigo had told the redhead that he would like the company. It wasn't a complete lie; he had been dreading the empty house a little. The fact that Renji's jeans were nice and snug as he lay on the carpet didn't hurt either. Ichigo had a perfect view from his seat on the couch.

"Oi, stop looking at my arse," Renji said, without looking away from the screen.

"I'm not," Ichigo retorted, blushing.

"Yeah, you were. And now you're all red."

"Wha-?"

"I can see yer reflection in the screen, dumbass. What, you think the kiddie movie has me that enthralled?" the redhead asked, rolling over and stretching.

Ichigo tensed. "What have you been doing then?"

Renji grinned, lazily. "Watching you checking me out. Was quite a show." He climbed to his feet and dropped onto the sofa next to Ichigo, forcing the teen to either move his legs or be sat on. Ichigo sat up quickly with a muttered curse, but Renji's hand on his arm stopped him from leaving the sofa. "Where are you going? Plenty of room for two." Renji then proceeded to shift around, moving Ichigo's limbs when they were in his way, until he was sitting back against Ichigo's chest. He wriggled until Ichigo had to grit his teeth against the friction and concentrate very hard on Dorothy meeting the Scarecrow, before finally sighing and relaxing. As he rested his head against the back of the sofa, Ichigo realised that he had a new problem. Strands of bright red hair were tickling his nose, and falling into his mouth when he opened to protest. Several puffed breaths proved ineffective. Frowning, he reached up and tugged the hairband out of Renji's hair.

"What are ya doing?" the redhead protested, twisting around to glare at Ichigo, and elbowing him in the gut in the process.

"It was in my face," Ichigo retorted. "If you're going to insist on sitting in my lap, then you can do it with your hair down."

Huffing in annoyance, Renji settled down and continued watching the film. Ichigo found that the red hair spilling down in front of him was far more fascinating than watching Dorothy wield an oil can. It seemed to glimmer in the light, strands of golden orange and dark crimson running through the fiery red. Slowly, he reached up and touched it, lightly. It was soft, much softer than he expected. There was a small tangle just above where his fingers rested, so he ran them through to comb it out.

Renji moaned quietly and leaned into the touch. "Ooh, you can carry on doin' that!" he exclaimed.

"You like having your hair played with?" Ichigo asked curiously. He knew a lot about playing with hair, he had been the one to brush and style the twin's for them, until they got old enough to do it for each other. Still, they were girls, and it was expected. Renji was... very much not a girl. Still, having his hair pulled back in a tight ponytail all the time was probably straining his scalp. Ichigo slid his fingertips through the bright strands and began to gently massage Renji's scalp, smiling in amusement as the Shinigami melted against him. He continued to watch the film as his fingers rubbed, smiling as the characters chanted 'Lions and tigers and bears' together. Yuzu had always hidden behind a pillow at that point when she was younger. Renji's hair shone as brightly as Dorothy's ruby slippers... or should that be the Wicked Witch of the East's ruby slippers?

A distinctly throaty moan brought his attention back to the boneless man lying in his lap. Renji was practically purring in contentment as he shifted his hips uncomfortably. Ichigo glanced down and felt his temperature rise as he noticed the large bulge in the jeans that Renji was wearing. The Shinigami's t-shirt had ridden up, exposing firm golden abs and a line of fine red hair leading downwards. Ichigo was seized with the urge to run his fingers through it.

Why shouldn't he? He wondered. Renji was obviously aroused, and he was the one who had started it by sitting in Ichigo's lap and having such ridiculously soft and tempting hair in the first place. Besides, if he wasn't willing, he would have asked Ichigo to stop the massage, and if anything he was encouraging him to continue, butting his head against Ichigo's fingers like a demanding kitten.

Ichigo ran his hand down Renji's neck and across his chest, feeling the shifting muscles under his palm as Renji arched into the touch. He raked his fingernails through the trail of enticingly bright hair, skimming along the waistband of Renji's jeans.

"Ichigo..." Renji moaned, before straightening a little and removing his hand. "Don't tease," he panted, his eyes dark and unreadable as he turned to look at the teen, bright hair falling into his eyes.

"I wasn't teasing," Ichigo retorted, not bothering to try and hide the erection pulling at the front of his sweatpants. Renji swallowed audibly as his gaze dropped and he noticed it. Slowly, as if waiting for Ichigo to change his mind, he reached forward and slid his palm over Ichigo's groin. Ichigo bit his lip to hold back the moan that threatened to burst free and reveal to Renji exactly how much he wanted his touch. As he opened eyes that had closed on their own and took in Renji's expression, he realised that it was too late; Renji already knew, and was already reaching eagerly for Ichigo's waistband.

"Wanna taste you," he whispered throatily, and Ichigo, imagining how that might feel, was mortified to hear a pleading whine escape his throat. Renji chuckled, and lifted the elastic carefully over Ichigo's swollen cock and pulled it down to his thighs. Gathering his hair over one shoulder, Renji tilted his head and licked from balls to tip, smiling at the way Ichigo's tensing stomach muscles made his erection twitch and thump against his navel. Carefully, he wrapped his fingers around the base, steadying it as he swirled his tongue around the head, making Ichigo gasp and buck up into the touch. The movement pushed his cock past Renji's lips, and the redhead grinned at the reaction, before sealing his lips around Ichigo's throbbing erection and sucking hard. He moved smoothly up and down, enjoying the feel of smooth skin against his tongue and lips, while his free hand travelled south to unzip his own jeans.

Freed at last from the confining denim, Renji's cock throbbed in the cool air. Renji wasted no time wrapping his fingers around himself, but the familiar sound of palm on flesh seemed to penetrate the haze of lust that Ichigo had been floating in. Renji suddenly found hands in his hair, pushing him away from the blowjob he had been enjoying. Ichigo wasn't looking at his face, he realised. The orange-haired teenager was frowning at his groin.

"Let me do that," Ichigo said suddenly.

"What?"

There was a challenge in the brown eyes. "You wanted to taste me," Ichigo pointed out reasonably. "Maybe _I_ want to feel you."

With much wriggling, and after expelling several cushions from the sofa, the pair managed to fit into a strange approximation of a sixty-nine, with Renji's mouth wrapped firmly around Ichigo's cock, and Ichigo's saliva-slick fingers wrapped around Renjis, twisting and pressing in a far more creative fashion than the one Renji normally used while jerking off. The redhead suspected that he wasn't going to last long, but he was pretty sure that Ichigo wasn't going to last much longer either...

As he had hazily predicted, the compulsive tightening of Ichigo's fingers as his cum hit the back of Renji's throat came at just the right moment to feel incredibly good. Three compulsive snaps of his hips into Ichigo's fist later, and Renji was collapsing sideways off of the couch, a large white stain on his t-shirt. He groaned in protest as he hit the floor, but couldn't muster up the co-ordination needed to save himself.

On screen, a multicoloured horse was parading around a large green room. Ichigo peered at the television and frowned.

"Oh... that didn't take long," he commented.

"I think I'm insulted," Renji groused as he peeled his stained t-shirt off. The next thing he knew, Ichigo had grabbed his wrist and was pulling him in the direction of the stairs.

"Wha-?"

"Come on," the teen said seriously. "We can do better than the Lion to the Emerald City!"

"Wha-?"

"Shut up and get your butt upstairs so we can, uh, you know..." Ichigo trailed off as his grip loosened on Renji's wrist and a blush spread over his cheeks.

"Ah," Renji said, a good deal more cheerfully. "Let's get on with it then!"

A/N: Yeah... uh... a little random... I started, then I asked whether she wanted lol or lemon, and the answer was 'both!'. Seeing as I didn't want Toshiro to become a voyeur, I had to write it in two parts. Please read and review!


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